To Better The Shattered
by FallingIsTheBestPart
Summary: The sequel to Broken but Mending. Scott McCall/OC. If it was her choice, her Aunt Kate wouldn't have been a murderous psychopath. If it was her choice, she wouldn't have found out that her family lineage is filled with cold blooded supernatural hunters. If it was her choice, her 'training' wouldn't be beginning. If it was her choice, her boyfriend wouldn't be a werewolf.
1. 00 Prologue

Molly and Frank Argent had a nice life. They didn't often leave New York City, opting for settling into a permanent residence nearby and hunting the odd supernatural that turned up. Neither of them enjoyed killing, maiming or injuring. Their broadsword (a wedding gift) was kept securely in a locked box in the cupboard.

Yeah, Molly and Frank Argent hunted werewolves.

Their daughter, Ellie, remained blissfully unaware, which they were grateful for. They didn't want her to have a life like theirs, or, rather, a life like Molly's. Her father, Gerard, was a tyrant, and a psychopath. His wife, Diane, had died years ago because of a werewolf, and the previously good-natured hunting party turned into a group of sour murderers.

Diane had been a beautiful woman, with long, chocolate brown hair and crystal blue eyes. Her smiles never faltered, and her love for her children was pure and strong. Her close friend, Michael, was bitten by an alpha. Ignoring her husband's advice, she'd tried to help him during a full moon. He attacked her, tore out her throat, and then, once he'd regained consciousness, told the authorities it was an animal attack.

"We Hunt Those Who Hunt Us," was Argent law, but very few really stuck to the hunting regulations that they were all meant to follow. As a family, the Argent's were the leaders of the group. Others joined, be it by marriage or recruitment, but they never rose to a status as high as an Argent would. Molly was trained her entire life, never really given a childhood and moved unceremoniously from town to town, with her older brother Chris and younger sister Kate.

Kate was much like her father, with the same dirty blonde hair and hazel eyes, and the same absolute hatred for the supernatural. She took their mother's death hardest of all, and was easily brainwashed by Gerard into thinking the entire annihilation of the species was what was best.

Molly didn't think the same thing, and, she knew, deep down neither did Chris. He just possessed an unfortunate desire to feel accepted by Gerard, and make his father proud. Molly's lack of respect for the man made her the black sheep of the family.

In college, the four,euphoric years away from her crazy, terrifying family, she met Frank Barnes, a young man who wanted to be a professional photographer. They became sweethearts very quickly, spending almost every waking moment with each other and learning everything they could about each other. It got to the point that the pair were so in love she told him the family secret, and what being with her would mean for him.

At first, he avoided her. The information was too much, even for a man so in love with her. For months, he didn't talk to her, didn't stay in the same room as her for more than five minutes. Molly was beginning to think there was no hope for their relationship, and she would be forced to go back to her father, and to a life she didn't want. But then he turned up at her door one evening.

He was sweating, his clothes stuck to his body from the rain outside, and a black box clutched in his hand. He thrust it out toward her, opened it to reveal a silver ring with a sharp, clear diamond.

"Will you marry me?" he asked.

Of course, she said yes, and they resumed the honeymoon phase. She told him soon that if they really were to be married ("Of course we're to be married!" he'd yelled), he would have to take her last name. Argent's were always Argent's, and his agreement to this would make her father respect him.

When Kate, Chris and Gerard met Frank, they weren't openly hostile. Kate sneered a bit, and Chris scowled, but her father obtained the same understanding air as he did when he met an increasingly interesting cadet ready to slay the supernatural.

The wedding took place two years later, with Frank's brother, Del, as his best man, and Molly's best friend, Victoria, as Maid of Honour. Victoria and Chris immediately hit it off, and Kate entered a steady relationship with Del. It ended not long after, creating an uncomfortable air at a lot of family gatherings, but Frank and Molly didn't let any of that get in the way.

Four years into marriage, Molly became pregnant. The couple were thrilled, as was Chris, who also revealed that Victoria, whom he'd married two years previous, was with child, also. The girls were born two hours apart, and were instantly the best of friends.

Ellie grew up in their apartment in New York, unknowing of the outings Molly and Frank went on occasionally when she was told that she could visit her Uncle Chris and Allison, his little girl.

On a hunt around six months before Ellie's seventeenth birthday, they were both bitten by an alpha. Molly knew the fate of those bitten, and so did Frank, and they knew that they couldn't remain living as werewolves, even if the bite didn't kill them.

The last time they saw Ellie, two days before their first full moon, their goodbye was long and heartfelt.

"We'll be gone for a long time, Ellie," Molly had said, hugging her daughter to her chest. Ellie had laughed lightly, and shook her head.

"Mum, you've said that everyday for the last two years. Okay," she pulled back, "So, you'll be gone for a month or so. That's fine. I like spending time with Allie,"

Molly started tearing up, and Frank turned to his daughter. "Ellie, we'll be gone longer than a month," he said seriously.

"Uh..."

"You have to promise me something," Molly said, "You have to promise that, no matter what they tell you, you'll follow your heart. If you don't want to, you don't have to feel obligated to do something you feel is wrong."

"You're going to be away for over a month and you're giving me a speech on peer pressure?" Ellie asked amusedly, "It's okay, mum. For that to work, you have to care what other people think of you, and I don't."

"Goodbye, darling," Frank pulled her into him, before wrapping an arm around Molly. Ellie didn't know that that would be the last time she saw her parents.

A two day journey ensued for Frank and Molly, who were in search for Motel Glen Capri. A lot of suicides took place there, they knew, but that didn't stop them being worried about it. They rented a room, duffel bags filled with guns strung over their backs, then sat opposite each other on the dingy bed.

"Which..." Frank cleared his throat, "Which one do you want?"

"I don't know," Molly said nervously, "The smaller one, I guess,"

"It's okay," he gave her a reassuring smile, "Smaller's better, there's less kick. I'll chamber the round, alright, so..."

"Wait, wait," Molly held up her hand, "When do I... I mean, do you count?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "Yeah, I'll-I'll... I'll count to three."

"So, after three, or on three?" she asked, biting her lower lip.

"You tell me."

Molly thought about it for a moment, before taking a deep breath and saying, "One, two... then pull the trigger."

"I love you," Frank said.

"I love you, too," Molly said.

"One, two..."

Then they both pulled the trigger, their last sight each other, the last sound they heard was the other telling them they loved them, their last thought their daughter.

Ellie found out about their death not long after. She received a phone call from the police, and then she was asked to identify the bodies.

Gerard, Chris and Kate flew out to help with preparations for the funeral, as did Del and Victoria and Allison. It seemed that everyone was crying, everyone was suffering, everyone was sad. Everyone but Ellie.

No, she was resentful. She hated that her parents' left her. She hated that they didn't try to work through whatever depression they were going through and stay with her. She hated that they preformed ritual suicide in a motel thousands of miles away under the pretence of a trip to work. She hated that Gerard seemed to know something about it, but refused to tell her.

Allison was the only thing that got her through the funeral, standing next to her in silence for most of the day.

Ellie went to the podium in front of the church of people, looking over the people she knew, people who'd known her parents. Her speech wasn't that long, and it was mainly a composition of things she'd heard on TV.

"I think that we can all agree that the worst day of loving someone is the day that you lose them," she began, "And people always say that a funeral, a funeral like this one, or a wake, or whatever, will give you closure. It celebrates the life they had and makes the poeple left behind feel better.

Like lighting a candle in a church will make them feel like they having just had some of the most important people _taken_ from you. Like saying a prayer will numb the pain you have from the fact that you'll never see them again. So, it makes people feel better.

But, for how long? A minute, a day? What difference does it make? Because, in the end, when you lose somebody, every candle, every prayer is not going to make up for that the only thing you have left is a hole in your life where that somebody that you cared about used to be. A rock with a birthday carved into it and a couple of dead flowers. None of this," she waved her arms around, "will ever make up for the fact that they're gone, that I've lost my parents, and that I'm never getting them back. It's over. Their lives are over, and I know that _this_ will be the last remaining memory I'll have connected to them.

And that sucks, because they deserved so much better. I don't want to remember their cold, lifeless eyes staring up at me from a casket. I want to remember waking up on my birthday to the same shitty music channel my mum used to like and my dad slipping me wine at family gatherings.

But it doesn't matter, anyway. There's no point in getting worked up. They're dead, and they're not coming back. So, we might as well get over it and carry on with our lives. So, raise your glasses everyone! Maybe if I drink too much I'll get lucky and choke on my own vomit."


	2. 01 In Which Things Get Much Worse

Ellie Argent had seen her fair share of weird shit since moving to Beacon Hills.

Honestly, she was kind of expecting things to go back to the semblance of normal it had been before the night of the winter formal. Back then, she had been completely, blissfully ignorant to the supernatural aspects of the town. Her biggest problem had been struggling with her new orphan status, something she'd come to terms with since meeting Scott McCall.

But now things were different. Ellie was still in love with her boyfriend, that hadn't changed, but she understood things now. She understood why he'd lied to her, why he'd been so evasive and why he made out with her best friend and her cousin three days after she broke up with him (with totally valid reasons).

All of the bad things were because he was a werewolf.

So, now, two weeks and one uncomfortable trip to Washington later, she was ready to pick things up where they left off.

Yeah… That may not be as easy as it should be.

;

Ellie and Scott were enjoying a nice date out on the preserve. Scott had muttered to her that he wanted to take her to dinner or something extravagant, but he couldn't afford a restaurant. He was embarrassed about it, but Ellie just smiled and told him that she didn't like that sort of thing anyway.

"As long as I'm with you, I don't care where we are." She'd said sweetly.

Scott had decided to take her on a picnic to watch the sunset. He couldn't stand the thought of not being around her for an extended period of time after the days he'd spent with no contact with her at all.

They laid out a blanket in front of Stiles' jeep (something he'd very generously loaned to his best friend after agreeing that he wouldn't be using it any time soon – Stiles was too busy waiting outside of Lydia's hospital room) and dropped onto it together. The grass beneath them was slightly dry, and there were clouds blocking the sun, but it was peaceful. Tall trees circled the clearing, with an uneven dirt track flowing through the foliage.

Conversation blossomed; he told her about his quiet holiday with his mum and how he'd successfully dodged a call from his dad – she told him about being locked in her room most of the time and how off Allison had been acting when regarding the topic of werewolves.

After around three hours, all of the food was gone and they were packing away. He pouted about cutting the afternoon short, which made her giggle and kiss him. The kiss lasted longer than she'd meant it too, and he lifted her by the legs to sit on the bonnet of the jeep.

"We…" she gasped out, "Are… supposed… to… be leaving."

"I don't want to go," he nuzzled his face into her neck, and he placed a kiss on her pulse point. "I think we should stay here for at least a couple more hours."

"Hours?" Ellie brought his face back up to rest their foreheads together, "I think that's a little bit of an exaggeration if last time is anything to go by."

Scott made a disgruntled noise. "Hey! That is unfair. You can hardly judge every possible sexual occurrence between us on our first time."

"First time? What makes you think there'll be a second?" she teased lightly. Her boyfriend groaned, cheeks turning pink. "Aw, come on, don't be embarrassed. If you're cheeks get any darker I'll have to call you Clifford."

"Clifford?"

"Yeah." She grinned to herself for a moment, but when Scott's face scrunched up in confusion she explained: "Like Clifford from the books. Clifford the Big Red Dog. Because you were blushing… and you're a werewolf…"

"Oh," his eyes narrowed, "Can you not cool it with the wolf jokes? Even a little bit?"

"Nope."

He growled playfully, sweeping a hand over her cheekbone. "Don't make me angry; you won't like me when I'm angry."

"I guess I'll have to call you Cujo, then." Ellie told him seriously.

Scott leaned back down to kiss her, but before their lips could touch he was wrenched backwards and shoved onto the ground. For a moment, Ellie was disorientated – then she noticed who'd pulled him off of her.

It was her Uncle Chris.

For months he'd been trying to sabotage their relationship, but now, with the knowledge that Scott was a werewolf (the Argent family's natural enemy), he was even more invested in keeping them apart.

If it had been Allison that was dating him, maybe they would've been broken up by now. But it was Ellie, and Ellie was incredibly stubborn. She refused to be controlled by her uncle just because he had some warped view on what was best for her.

"Uncle Chris!" she yelped, "What the hell?"

He ignored her, instead slipping a gun from his pocket and pointing it at the werewolf. "You stay the hell away from my niece!" he shouted.

"Scott saved all of our lives!" Ellie yelled at him, yanking on his arm to try and break the aim from her boyfriend. "You can't just threaten him!"

"Mr Argent!" Scott squeaked.

"You two are not to see each other!" Chris ordered.

Ellie scoffed. "You have no right to stop me from seeing him. You kept us apart for two weeks already." His arm didn't waver, "For Christ's sake, dude, put the gun down! Unless you want to explain to the sheriff why a totally innocent teenage boy turned up dead in a town where you're the only licenced gun holder."

Her uncle let his arm drop. "You can't see him anymore, Ellie." He told her firmly, "You don't understand. It's not up to you or me."

Scott stumbled onto his feet, gulping audibly before gently grasping Ellie's hand. "I love your niece, Mr Argent. I know that you don't trust me, but I would never do anything to hurt her."

"I believe you." The older man told him. "But I'm not the thing that matters, Scott. You're a werewolf and there are people on our family who aren't going to accept this."

"People like Aunt Victoria?" Ellie asked thickly.

Chris' jaw tightened. "And others." He looked at Scott, "I believe that you love my niece, and if you really are telling the truth then do this for her. Being affiliated with you won't bring anything good."

He stalked away, probably back to where he came from, leaving Ellie and Scott staring at each other and wondering why they couldn't just have a normal, stress-free evening together anymore.

(Of course, twenty minutes later they were in the backseat of the jeep with the windows steamed up and the encounter forgotten).

;

Ellie Argent prided herself on many things. She was a good bowler, and she could make any shot with a bow and arrow… and she could be really, really sneaky if she wanted to be. And, well, with a forbidden romance going on, she needed every ounce of subtlety available to a seventeen year old girl.

The day before the return to school, Ellie visited Lydia in the hospital. Her best friend was awake after an attack from Peter Hale (the psycho alpha with a tragic back story and a penchant for vengeance) and back to her usual self.

Lydia complained about how Jackson hadn't visited her, and about how overbearing her father was being. Ellie told her about the forced breakup with Scott ("Your uncle is a hard ass," the strawberry blonde commented).

"Where's Allison been?" Lydia had asked eventually, voice hurt.

Ellie frowned and rested her chin on her hand from where she leaned on her friend's bed. "She's been pretty distant lately. I think with all of the stress of what happened the night of the winter formal, and Kate's death and everything… she's taken it pretty hard. I haven't actually had a real conversation with her since we left for Washington. I don't know where she goes."

"Maybe she just needs time?" Lydia suggested.

Ellie shook her head. "I don't think so."

That night, Chris, Victoria and Allison went out for dinner. Ellie was told to say in the house and her phone was taken away from her. She wasn't allowed to communicate with anyone on the off chance that they could give and send messages between her and Scott.

Honestly, she felt like Rapunzel stuck in the tower.

At exactly seven o clock, her window was pushed up to allow a person through. She smirked at him, waiting for him to approach her.

"How much time do we have?" Scott asked, grinning.

"They'll be gone an hour."

She jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist and letting him carry her to her bed as they kissed. Her Aunt and Uncle really didn't think the situation through.

They'd managed to remove Scott's jeans and his shirt, as well as Ellie's dress. One of his hands swept up her back and the other flailed out, crashing into her alarm clock and sending it to the ground.

"Sorry!" he yelped, tucking the offending appendage back into the proximity of the bed.

Ellie giggled, "Not important. I needed a new one anyway."

Scott brought their mouths together again, hands reaching for the clasp on her back until he suddenly froze. "Do the right-side brakes on your uncle's SUV squeak a little bit?"

She frowned, wanting to get back to the good stuff. "Yeah, I guess."

"Then we're dead. I'm dead."

"Holy shit!" Ellie rolled off of him and grabbed her clothes. "Out, out! Hurry!"

He managed to wrestle his jeans back on and dive under the window while Ellie shoved his shirt under her covers. Snatching a book from her shelf, she laid herself out on her bed as I she'd been there since her family had left.

What seemed like only seconds later – but was probably several minutes – her aunt was barging into the room like she owned the damn place (which she didn't, because they rented the house).

"If you're not going to let me have a lock on my door, or even use technology's been around for less than twenty years, you could at least knock before entering," Ellie sniffed, not looking up from – wait, what was the book? She scanned over the text and realised that it was an old paperback Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets that her mum had bought her from a book fair several years ago. "That would be the polite thing to do."

"Knocking is only needed if the person is up to something they don't want someone to walk in on," Victoria snapped, "Did I interrupt something?"

"Just my reading," the teenager replied, "And my life and my happiness… but, yeah, other than that you're totally in the right. I have no idea why I've been so angry at you for the past few weeks."

"I've got your dress and shoes for the funeral tomorrow. I figured you wouldn't want to wear the same clothes as you did to your parents' funeral," Victoria said casually, and Ellie flinched. Sure, she'd come to terms with her parents' deaths, but she still didn't like talking about it.

Her aunt moved to the wardrobe and threw the doors open carelessly, obviously trying to catch Scott. Maybe her relatives weren't as stupid as she thought they were.

"Can I go back to reading my book in peace now?" Ellie asked snidely, running a hand through her tousled hair. "Or would you prefer to do a full body cavity search? I don't think you'll find much out of place; I removed the coke as soon as possible like any other sensible delinquent teen."

Victoria scowled, poking her head of the window, and Ellie mentally crossed her fingers that Scott had moved out of the way. The older woman walked briskly to the door, giving her niece one last suspicious look before leaving. The door slammed loudly and the hinges creaked in protest.

Scott's head peaked back inside, though his face was pinched with worry. "I have to go. Stiles needs me."

"What? I thought Stiles was with Lydia at the hospital." Ellie frowned, throwing the book somewhere haphazardly.

"Yeah," her boyfriend said, "There's something wrong with Lydia."

;

Scott left really quickly after that, not giving Ellie enough time to catch up with him. He had run there, so he must've run to the hospital, too, and he barely explained the situation. She wouldn't have known anything if she hadn't yanked the phone out of the werewolf's hand when Stiles texted him the details.

Lydia was missing – she ran naked out of the hospital for no apparent reason, and now she was officially missing. That didn't seem like a very 'Lydia Martin' thing to do.

Ellie didn't have time to ponder the consequences; she stuffed herself into a pair of jeans under her dress, slipped into some boots and yanked on her coat. On the way to her window she picked up a woollen hat and then jumped onto the roof, flipping onto the pavement like she once did in order to go on a double date. She had to dive into the bushes for a few minutes to make sure her uncle couldn't see her on the way to his SUV. Two other goons were with him, so she assumed it must have been a hunting party.

Running fourteen blocks to the hospital was a very painful, tiring experience, but she managed to reach the jeep before the boys drove away.

"What are you doing here?" Scott hissed, "What if someone sees?"

"Let them. Lydia is my best friend, Scott, and we need to find her before they do." Ellie said seriously.

Scott shook his head. "I can find her before the cops can."

"Can you find her before my uncle does?"

"He knows?" Stiles asked, sounding horrified.

Ellie scoffed. "He definitely knows. I just saw him and two guys leave my house in two of the death-UVs. He's sending out a hunting party."

Scott swung the car door open. "Get in."

;

A mile down the road, toward the preserve, Stiles decided it was time to question the hunter-girl. Ellie understood that he needed answers and everything, but her family never told her anything. Her connections to werewolves apparently made her a liability.

"Alright, but if she's turning, would they actually kill her?" the pale boy asked nervously.

Ellie groaned. "I don't know. They won't tell me anything; all they say is 'we'll talk after Kate's funeral when the others get here'."

"What others?"

"They won't tell me that, either." She said blankly.

"Okay," Stiles said exasperatedly, "Your family's got some serious communication issues to work on. Scott, are we going the right way?"

Scott, from where his head was stuck out of the window (like a dog) to catch Lydia's scent, said, "Take the next right!"

;

Scott's nose led them to the old Hale house, much to Ellie's chagrin. She hated that she had to be there again; the place made her skin crawl. After everything that had happened there the night of the winter formal, she had planned not to ever go back again.

"She came here?" form the tone of Stiles' voice, he wasn't totally thrilled about being there either. "You sure?"

"This is where the scent leads," Scott confirmed.

They walked slowly forward until Stiles blurted, "But has Lydia ever even been here?"

"I've never taken her here," Ellie replied, wrapping her arms around herself. "I've only been here once." Stiles huffed and stomped ahead of the couple, and she turned to her boyfriend. "Maybe she came here on instinct. Like she was looking for Derek."

"You mean looking for an alpha," Scott said resignedly.

Ellie sighed, "Wolves want packs, right? But would that even mean that she would be drawn to an alpha? Is it an instinct?"

"We're stronger in packs."

"Like strength in numbers?"

"No," Scott shook his head. "We're literally stronger in packs. We're faster, better in every way."

"And for an alpha?" Ellie asked, holding her breath.

Scott nodded slowly. "It'll make Derek stronger, too."

"Whoa!" Stiles shouted from behind them. "Do you see this? Look! I think it's a trip wire!"

Ellie crouched next to him and examined the wire. "Cool," she muttered, before reaching out and flicking it. Behind them there was a groan of metal and a yelp.

"Stiles?" Scott said.

Stiles turned, "Yeah, buddy? Oh."

Ellie looked at her boyfriend, and saw that he was hanging upside down by the trap, arms dangling and face turning a brilliant shade of purple.

"Next time you guys see a tripwire," the werewolf said, sounding 100% done, "Don't trip it."

Ellie stifled a giggle behind her hand and told him, "Noted." The two humans stepped forward to help, but Scott quickly stopped them.

"No, no, no, wait!" he ordered, "Someone's coming. Hide, both of you."

Stiles stood dumbly for a minute, and Ellie grabbed his arm to pull him behind a bush. She watched as her uncle strolled through the trees with the two sycophants behind him, sighing when he saw Scott.

"Scott?"

"Mr Argent."

"How are you doing?"

"Good. I'm, you know… hanging in there. Is this one of yours? It's good. Nice design; very constricting."

"What are you doing here, Scott?"

"Looking for my friend."

"That's right. Lydia's in your group now, isn't she? Part of the clique? Is that the word you use? Or is there another way to put it? Part of your pack?"

"Actually, clique sound about right to me."

"I hope so. Because I know she's a friend of Ellie's and Allison's, and one special circumstance such as yourself… One I can handle. Not two."

"No."

"Scott, do you know what a hemicorporectomy is?"

"I have a feeling I don't want to."

"A medical term for amputating somebody at the waist. Cutting them in half. Takes a tremendous amount of strength to cut through tissue and bone like that. Let's hope a demonstration never become necessary."

Uncle Chris left, taking his men with him, and Stiles and Ellie immediately rushed over to him. "Are you okay? God, he's such a creep."

"It's just another life threatening conversation with your uncle. I'm actually pretty sued to them now." Scott laughed, still hanging from the trap. Ellie thought that Chris could at least have the decency to cut the boy down.

"Come on, Stiles, help me get him free." Ellie ran to the cables holing up the trap, but there was no point.

There was a snipping noise, and a thump, and then Scott's voice saying, "Thanks, but I think I've got it." He nodded to the house. "Let's go."

They searched for hours, but there was no point. Lydia wasn't there – she was still missing.


	3. 02 In Which She Puts The FUN In FUNERAL

Ellie wasn't emotionally stable enough to go to school without a little bit of complaining to her uncle. After the search the night before turned sour (the trail ended at the Hale house – the house that was totally empty), she'd crept back into her bedroom. Allison's light was still on behind the door when Ellie went passed it (she needed to get washed up in bathroom – there was literally dirt everywhere), but she didn't go inside to check on her cousin.

When she woke the next day, it was to the foreboding realisation that school resumed at exactly 8 am, meaning she needed to get dressed right away. It was still strange for her not to hear the usual tone-deaf singing through the twelve inches of dry wall that separated her and Allison's rooms; the other brunette hadn't graced her ears with the horror that is Justin Bieber in almost three weeks.

The drive there was more than slightly awkward. Since she'd been put on probation with her relative, Ellie wasn't allowed to drive herself anywhere. Chris gave her a ride in his monster SUV (Victoria was smiling smugly in the background like the usual self-absorbed bitch she revelled in being) and her cousin drove in the Mazda all by herself. It didn't strike Ellie until she was stuffing the plastic-covered dress in her locker that it was Kate's funeral later that day.

Her other aunt was still a tough subject for her. The woman had been her role model - everything she aspired to be: confident, beautiful, and reasonably kind with a sprinkle of hostility. Kate was the epitome of adult superiority, and one of her best friend's growing up. It was different now, though. She was a convicted murderer. A dead, convicted murderer. Someone she'd looked up to had ended up being a cold-blooded killer who went against every Argent rule in the book. _We hunt those who hunt us_ – not werewolves who had never hurt a human further then tackling them in an aggressive football game.

Hours passed by like minutes. Ellie didn't talk to Allison, or Scott (even though it was hard, she couldn't bring herself to want to speak to him on such a sad day), and she tried her best to ignore the whispers that seemed to follow her.

Yeah, her aunt was a supposed 'serial killer', but that didn't mean she had anything to do with it. Honestly, it was a little insulting – especially then. Her mind was reeling from the knowledge that she was about to bury one of the last family member she had left. It would be her second funeral in less than a year, and the idea of being reminded of the last one she went to made her stomach churn. Ellie had lost so much family lately that she was starting to feel like Elena freaking Gilbert and, as pretty as Nina Dobrev is (seriously, she wasn't into girls but if she would definitely screw Nina Dobrev), the comparison was unappreciated, even from her own head.

When the end of the day rolled around, she went back to her locker to collect her dress. It was pretty, with a loose flowing skirt and two thin straps. Her shoes were modest, her cardigan cropped at the waist as to not go further than the loose belt tied beneath her bust. She'd tried it on the night before, and it was nice. It would've been nicer if it hadn't been for that sort of occasion, though.

Ellie had just draped the garment over her arm when an unfamiliar piece of paper caught her attention. It was yellow, with blue lines, and, unfolded, it read "Because I love you".

Her mind rushed back to the night of the winter formal, when Scott had stared at her with doe brown eyes and said the exact same words. The memory was welcomed – one of her best – and it made a brilliant smile tug at her lips.

Even with everything going on, she knew that she could always rely on Scott: Her perfect boyfriend who loved her enough to overlook the fact that her family wanted him dead.

Shaking her head, she slammed her locker shut, turning the blinding grin to the boy next to her. She recognised him to be Matt something-or-other, a boy from her history (or math – she didn't know the specific lesson) class.

"Nice dress," he told her kindly.

Ellie shrugged, "I guess it's okay." She eyed the Canon in his hand, "Nice camera. It looks pretty expensive; are you into photography?"

Matt's eyes widened, mouth dropping like he couldn't believe they were conversing. "Yeah, um, I mean I'm pretty, uh, passionate about taking pictures."

"Of, like, nature, and stuff?" she asked, genuine interest forming at the forefront of her mind.

"W-yeah. Not people, or anything, though. I would never take pictures of people without asking them, you know. I'm not, I mean-" he stumbled.

Ellie cut him off good naturedly. "I get it. You like taking pictures, and a lot of people get tetchy about it because they think you're filming them. Some people are really judgemental like that."

"Yeah," Matt agreed, a slightly dazed quality filming over his shark-like eyes.

They were silent for a moment, before she heard someone behind her mutter: "It was her aunt, you know, the one who killed all those people."

"You mean the crazy bitch who killed all those people." Another voice corrected, giggling. Ellie turned to look at the pair of girls leaning on the lockers behind her.

"The fire, the animal attacks… it was all her aunt." The first one muttered.

The second (who she knew to be Angela Morse), gasped: "No way! I sit next to her in English!"

"Find a new seat."

Ellie looked down, flinching internally at the judgement in the girls' voices. She hated that her label of new girl had changed so dramatically – it seemed that the word had spread with surprising velocity in the few weeks she'd been gone.

She wondered if Allison had been bearing through it all day, too (then she wondered if Allison would ever talk to her again for her to find out).

Matt gave her a look that could only be described as pitying – something she resented – before she simply quirked her lips at him and walked briskly down the hall.

Or, at least, she tried to walk briskly down the hall – an arm shot out and grabbed her before she made it all the way.

The door slammed behind her, and suddenly Scott's face was in front of hers – the same sweet, handsome face that made her stomach erupt in butterflies.

"I don't know if I should be happy you saved me or worried that you have some freaky connection going on with my emotions." Ellie joked weakly, tears filling her eyes at the sight of a familiar face. Why had she avoided him all day? He was the only person who could make her feel better after the shit time she'd had.

"I heard your heartbeat," he said by way of explanation, frowning. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know if I can do this, Scott," Ellie said, resting her forehead on his chest. "I don't know if I can go to the funeral. Everyone is going to be watching me, and there'll be cameras, and all I've been able to think about is how my parent's funeral was only a few months ago… I can't. I really can't."

Scott stroked a hand through her hair. "Yes you can," he said confidently. "Ellie, it's all going to get better, okay? We'll find Lydia and Allison will start talking to you again… just, think about it. No more Peter, or psycho werewolf killings."

"I can't go like this," she pulled away from him to stare into his eyes. "I'm all snotty and -" she broke off with a noise of disgust.

"Aren't you supposed to cry at funerals?" Scott asked, nose brushing along hers.

"For Kate?" Ellie laughed humourlessly. "You honestly think she deserves that?"

"You don't have to cry for her, Ellie." He whispered, "Cry for you. Cry because you lost someone who was important to you. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks."

"Yeah."

"You'll be fine," he assured her. "And I'll be there to make sure."

"What?" she blinked, "You can't be there. Someone will see you, and my aunt will literally kill you- "

"I'll figure it out, okay?" Scott smiled, "I won't be right next to you, but I'll be there. You'll see me, I promise."

"Really?" Ellie sighed, "Thank you."

They kissed for a moment, before Scott pulled back and opened the door for her, muttering a 'you first'.

She didn't want to leave him, but knowing that he would risk disembowelment just to help her through the death of someone he hated made her chest warm. She couldn't wait until she saw him again.

;;

It was official: Ellie hated reporters. They were crowding around her and the rest of her family like freaking vultures clothes in GAP jeans, and she could barely stop herself from reaching out and whacking them across the head. Chris and Victoria were on the outside of their small huddle, protecting her and Allison from the brunt of the attack. Being so close to her cousin after so long was a bit weird, but she was glad to find that when she clasped their hands together for comfort the taller girl didn't pull away.

The Beacon Hills police department were dotted around the edge of the graveyard, trying to control the swarm of overbearing, camera-clad assholes. Forget werewolves – these lowlifes were the real soulless monsters.

They yelled things out, asked for comments (mainly from Chris, but some were directed at Victoria also) but the Argent clan simply forced their way to the barricades. When they'd passed, Sheriff Stilinski blocked the hole, giving a few of the pushier people a stern look.

"I knew this was a bad idea," Ellie heard Chris mutter.

Victoria made a face, "Yeah, well, it wasn't mine."

"I tried to stop him, but he insisted on making a show of it." Chris glared, releasing his hold on Ellie's arm with a sharp glare to his wife.

"Well, if he insisted, he can deal with this when he gets here," her aunt sniffed.

"When who gets here?" Allison asked, squeezing Ellie's hand.

Victoria frowned. "Just sit down with your cousin, sweetheart."

Allison did as she was told, bringing Ellie with her. They sat next to each other in silence, Ellie's head swinging around as surreptitiously as it could to catch a glimpse of Scott. He wasn't anywhere to be seen… but Matt was. In fact, he's ducked the barrier and was heading over to them in a sort of lowered run.

Ellie remembered the crush she knew he had on her brunette companion, and wondered if he was approaching to comfort her. God knew she needed it.

Matt crouched on the grass, aiming his camera to face the two girls. He seemed not to notice that Ellie had seen him, instead snapping a few shot directed in her direction as well as Allison's. A chill crept down the back of her neck as she remembered their conversation from earlier that day – when he said he didn't take pictures of people.

It was for the school newspaper, she decided. He wasn't doing this of his own free will; it was for an obligation he had no control over.

A hand was suddenly covering the lens, wrinkled and marred with age. She followed the limb up to the face of the man and felt her breath rush out of her.

Gerard Argent was a very intimidating man. He stood at less than 6ft tall, with a balding head and drooping cheeks. Honestly, he looked like a simple old man until you caught his eyes. They were cold and hard, filled with malicious loathing and calculating manipulation. When regarding him in comparison to the rest of his family, he seemed to bear a striking resemblance to his daughter in law, Victoria. They were both terrifying, and they both triggered your gag reflex from an intense dislike that rises into your throat. Ellie harboured distaste for the man – Stiles was going to hate him.

Gerard spoke with Matt momentarily, a look of frustrating patronisation painted over his features, then he took out a part of the Canon and broke it into pieces before letting them fall to the floor.

Matt gave him a look of astonishment, yanked his camera back into his hands, and walked away.

Chris greeted his father politely, allowing a hug. The two were obviously uncomfortable around each other, having only seen each other a handful of times since they stopped living in the same household. Victoria was next, muttering an 'I'm sorry' that was as empty as her chest cavity.

Gerard looked to Ellie and her cousin next. "You remember me?"

Allison nodded slowly, but Ellie pursed her lips and looked stubbornly away…

… in time to meet Scott's eyes. He was hidden away behind a stone angel, watching the older man with confusion and interest.

The other Argent's followed her gaze, and the werewolf shot back out of view. Ellie rolled her eyes, a soft, fond smile tugging at her lips.

"Seeing as you haven't seen me at any other setting than a funeral since you were both three, I don't suppose you'll call me grandpa?" Gerard asked, grinning (threateningly). "So, if it's comfortable, call me Gerard for the time being. But I'd prefer Grandpa."

He took a seat to Ellie's left, the teenager shuffling slightly in discomfort. This was going to be a long two hours.

;;

Scott and Stiles were shoved roughly into the back of sheriff Stilinski's squad car after having been caught watching the funeral. The fact that reinforcements had been sent had made Stiles' head swim. Why couldn't there be non-hunting Argents? Why couldn't that be a thing?

" _415 Adam_ ," came a voice from the comms system.

"I didn't copy that," Stilinski said in reply. "Did you just say '415 Adam'?"

Stiles whispered to Scott, "Disturbance in a car."

 _"They were taking a heart attack patient DOA, when something hit them."_

"Hit the ambulance?"

 _"Copy that. I'm standing in front of it right now."_

Stiles leaned forward in interest.

 _"Something got in the back. There's blood everywhere, and I mean everywhere."_

The officer on the end of the line told the Sheriff the address, and the two teenage boys were out of the seat in seconds.

;;

Later that night, Ellie received a call from Lydia's phone.

"Hello?" she greeted wearily, hope coiling inside her. Had her best friend finally been found?

"Ellie," sounded the unmistakable voice of the strawberry blonde.

"Lydia! They found you!"

"Actually, I found them."

"What happened? Are you okay?"

"I can't really remember anything, and, yes, I'm fine. I don't think your twitchy friend is, though."

"Stiles? What's wrong with Stiles?"

"I walked out of the woods naked and he fainted after seeing me."

"… That sounds like him."

"Yep."

"I'm really glad you're back now. School was hell without you."

"…"

"Lydia, you there?"

"… Yeah. I've got to go, though. I'll see you tomorrow, I promise. Oh, and will you tell Stiles that if he thinks about me naked inappropriately I'll dismember him?"

"Of course I'll tell him. Bye Lydia."

"Night, Ellie."

"Love you."

And finally, Ellie was able to relax into sleep.


	4. 03 In Which They Meet A Reptilian Fiend

Secret trysts in the woods weren't usually Ellie's thing, but they were the only way for her to see Scott now without her family finding out. They couldn't openly date in school (in case a teacher or student accidently let it slip that Ellie wasn't following the carefully listed set of rules her aunt had given her), so meeting in the middle of the night was the best way to continue their relationship.

Checking quickly that the coast was clear, she quietly tiptoed from her bedroom and down the stairs. When she reached the back door, she slipped out of the house. It was cold outside,s o she'd bundled into her warmest coat and hat.

Once inside her car, she lightly blew onto her window. The secret messages had been Scott's idea, and they made her smile to see. He'd passed the car earlier that day (probably in the school car park), and had noted the time.

 _Midnight._

Ellie's smile was a little dreamy as she put the car in drive and headed for the preserve. Their meeting place was near the overlook of the town, about a mile from the old Hale house. They'd arranged it by remembering where they'd walked on her birthday. Using her phone as a light (and trying not to remember the last time she'd used it for that exact purpose – in the school, being chased by the alpha), she stumbled between the trees.

Did Scott forget?

Leaves rustled behind her, and she spun on her heel to inspect the noise. A foot away from her stood a silhouetted figure, two glowing spots where their eyes were supposed to be.

She let out a breath of relief. "Scott."

"What are you doing?" he asked worriedly, approaching so they were closer together.

"I was trying to find you," she smiled widely, "With all of the crazy that's been happening, I've wanted to see you properly."

"Did anyone see you leave?"

Ellie shook her head. "No, I was careful. What's wrong? Is it the full moon?"

"No, it's not that," Scott denied, frowning. "I just… wanted to ask you some things; about your family and, uh, your grandfather."

Oh. That… wasn't the romantic conversation she'd expected.

"I don't really know that much about him." Ellie shrugged, "He's just the guy who sends a cheque in the mail every year for my birthday. My parents' funeral was the first time I'd seen him since I was a little kid."

"Does he know about me?" Scott asked seriously, eyebrows knitting together. "About us?"

"No, Uncle Chris hasn't mentioned it," she told him honestly. "And he seemed pretty intent on letting you live for my sake, so I don't think he'd sign your death warrant. Why? Did something else happen?"

"We just have to be more careful now." He said ominously.

"… They're not going to split us apart."

"No."

"You want to know why?" she leaned up and brushed their noses together, grinning. "Because I ;love you."

"I love you," he replied.

They kissed, and her family wasn't mentioned again.

;

Ellie woke up to the sound of her phone dinging with a message. She knew it couldn't be Scott – he wasn't stupid enough to message her when her family was watching her as closely as they'd been since the winter formal.

 _Lydia:_

 _Get up, I'm picking you up in 20 minutes._

Oh.

She'd almost forgotten that it was Lydia's first day of school. After the accident, and then being found from a naked hike in the woods, she'd been held back from going to school for an extra couple of days. It was incredibly lonely in school, but, luckily, Allison was rekindling the friendship between them, and the boy from the day of the funeral, Matt, was providing excellent locker conversation.

Falling out of bed, she yanked herself into a standing position and hurried to get dressed. Her clothes were reserved (just jeans and a t-shirt), but she coupled the outfit with insanely tall heels and a complicated tied-up hairstyle.

When she was sorted, she grabbed some toast from Allison's plate ("Hey! That was mine!" Her cousin yelped).

"I'm getting a ride form Lydia," Ellie rolled her eyes. "No time to make breakfast. Do want to come with?"

"… Sure. I've been meaning to see how she's dong."

Outside, Lydia's Beetle pulled up, and the two girls climbed inside (Ellie called shotgun, so Allison was stuck squished in the tiny back seat). The journey was silent, though, form the tightening of her hands on the steering wheel, Ellie suspected that Lydia knew that her friends were brimming with questions.

It wasn't until Lydia has parked the car that Allison blurted: "How are you? I'm so sorry I didn't visit you in the hospital; I was going through a dark period. With everything that happened, and you going missing and everything… I just need to know if you're okay. Are you okay? You seem okay. Why did you run out of the hospital?"

Lydia said nothing, instead opting for swinging out of the vehicle. Ellie followed immediately, giving Allison an exasperated look. Those questions weren't upsetting or anything.

"I don't remember anything," Lydia told them quietly as they walked to the building. Loiterers had already retreated within the building, or to watch lacrosse.

"You don't?" Ellie blinked owlishly, "So, it's just, like, a blank?"

"They called it a fugue state, which is basically a way of saying that 'We have no idea why you went running through the woods naked for two days'." The strawberry blonde explained. "But, personally, I don't care." They stopped in front of the school doors. "I lost nine pounds."

"Are you ready?" Ellie asked worriedly, jerking her head in the direction of the building.

Her taller friend scoffed, "Please, it's not like my aunt's a serial killer," and walked confidently inside.

Both Argent girls flinched, surprised by Lydia's vindictiveness. They shared a look, took a simultaneous deep breath and followed her inside.

Everyone inside stopped and stared at Lydia, like they were waiting for her to crack and run away screaming. Ellie stopped behind her, offering a comforting smile. "Maybe it's the nine pounds."

Lydia flicked her hair and swaggered determinedly up the hallway. Allison bumped Ellie's shoulder, and the two girls separated to their lockers.

;

Isaac Lahey had been arrested for his father's murder.

It was weird; Ellie honestly couldn't see him as the sort of person to commit homicide on a family member.

Well, until Stiles caught up with her, that is. The pale boy explained that Isaac was a werewolf ("What?!" Ellie yelled) and that he was going to spend the night in jail – over a full moon.

"Shit," Ellie said bleakly.

Stiles barked a laugh. "'Shit' is right."

;

"… Do we have proof?" Ellie heard Gerard say later that night.

"Not irrefutable," Chris said seriously. "… But not insignificant. The driver's side door of Lahey's car was prised off."

"Prised off?" Gerard repeated.

Ellie's uncle paused. " _Ripped_ off."

Her grandfather met her eyes then, and cleared his throat. Chris turned to see what he was looking at, noticed the teenager, and grimaced. He, at least, had the gall to look embarrassed at the conversation. At the implications of the conversation. They were planning the murder of a 16-year-old boy who might not have even done anything wrong… it was despicable.

Her uncle pulled the doors closed, but she didn't move.

Allison had joined her by the time she heard the doorknob turn and a man bumped into her. He was wearing a sheriff's uniform and carrying a suspicious box, but she simply apologised and let him pass her.

"Allison?" Gerard called. Ellie's cousin turned to look. "Come in, we'd like to talk to you."

"We're supposed to study with Lydia. I really don't have time to chat…" the taller girl started.

Chris cut her off. "Actually, that's who we wanted to talk to you about, sweetheart."

Ellie and Allison shared a look, and Ellie muttered, "Good luck," before her cousin walked slowly to the room.

;

When Allison was let out, she quickly pulled Ellie into her bedroom and called Stiles. He was huffing as he answered, " _Hey, sorry, Harris literally just let me out of detention. Literally. And he had my phone the whole freaking time_."

Ellie motioned to her cousin to put the phone on the desk for her to hear better, before saying: "Well, we need to do something right now."

"They asked me all of these questions about Lydia and how she was bitten by Peter," Allison added, "And then they sent this guy out."

" _Wait, what guy_?"

"He was, uh, dressed in the same clothes your dad wears." Ellie explained, "Like a sheriff's deputy, or something."

" _They're sending him to the station for Isaac_." Stiles' voice was mildly horrified.

"He was also carrying this box with something on it, like…" Ellie frowned, recalling an image of a flower. Was it a flower? "It was a carving, or something."

" _What was it_?"

Allison started flicking through one of her hunter encyclopaedias. "Hold on, it's in one of these books." She said, "I'm taking a picture." The Argent girl aimed her phone at the book and snapped a shot, sending it quickly.

Ellie peeked her head around, gasping in surprise when she saw the exact flower it was. Scott had said something about that.

"Did you get it?" Allison asked impatiently.

Stiles groaned. " _Yeah, wolfs bane_."

"… What does that mean?" she said after a moment.

"It means they're going to kill him." Ellie answered for him.

;

Allison had split off from her cousin, going to 'slow down' the goon sent to the station. Ellie had nodded, agreeing with Stiles' plan, before saying that she would find Scott.

The other teens had been wary at first, unsure if it would be safe for the small brunette, but Ellie was adamant about finding him.

"Scott won't hurt me," she told them confidently. She knew he wouldn't.

Stiles sighed, " _Fine. He's at Isaac's house_."

"Thanks."

;

Ellie wasn't entirely sure how she knew where Isaac's house was, but she found it anyway. When she pushed into the main hallway, she was greeted by nothing but silence. Frowning, she pushed open doors until she found a staircase that lead to the basement.

"Scott?" she called tentatively, using her phone to shine around the dark room. In front of her, quivering and crouched down, was Scott.

She hurried to him, dropping her duffel bag on the floor next to her as she knelt in front of his form. The zip squeaked loudly in the quiet room, and she carefully pulled out the pile of chains Stiles had dropped at (well, actually thrown from the window of his jeep on the front porch of) the house.

"Do we- do we have to do this?" Ellie asked tentatively.

Scott looked up slowly, showing his glowing yellow eyes. "Yes."

"Where?"

He gently grabbed her wrist and pointed the phone light at a freezer that was tucked away in a corner opposite them.

Ellie stood up, pulling him with her, and guided him to the machine. Thankfully, it wasn't on, so when she lifted the lid and helped him inside he didn't freeze to death. Every fibre in her body told her that she shouldn't do it, but he stared at her pitifully. "Please, Ellie," he whispered. "I don't want to hurt you."

Swallowing, she leaned down to kiss him softly. "I love you," she whispered, before closing the freezer and sealing him inside. "It's done," she declared after a minute. "I locked it."

"Go," he ordered weakly.

"I'm not going to leave-"

"Go!"

His shout was so loud it made her ears ring, and behind it was the power of a werewolf that was barely holding onto its control.

Ellie ran.

Upstairs, she stopped, panting, and walked to the kitchen. She considered pouring herself a glass of water, but decided against it. The last thing she needed was even more DNA in the house then there already was.

Behind her, she heard the sound of hissing – more like a lizard than a cat. Ellie twirled around, gasping, and saw… something.

In the low light, she could vaguely make out the green tinge to its scales and horrendous, glowing yellow eyes. It was _grotesque_ and _monstrous_. When Scott transformed into a werewolf, it was sort of beautiful. Natural. But this thing, whatever it was, was an abnormality. It wasn't right.

And so, she did the only thing she could do: she screamed like a little girl and grabbed the closest weapon to her – a butcher's knife.

"Come on!" she yelled at it, putting herself in the defensive position her dad had shown her a million times. "Come on!"

The lizard-thing didn't have enough time to come at her, though, because something crashed through the wall and tackled it before it could.

Scott, werewolf form Scott who had been adamant he couldn't control himself, crouched protectively in front of her. The thing hissed at him, before scurrying up the wall and out of the building.

"What the freaking hell was that?" Ellie gasped.

Scott jumped up. "I… don't know. But I have a feeling we're going to find out."


	5. 04 In Which She Hits Her Wall

Ellie had 17 years of experience dealing with her family, but even she didn't believe they would stoop so low. Her grandfather wasn't a stellar influence on her adult relatives, but she'd assumed that at least her uncle would show an ounce of maturity and speak to her instead of freaking her out.

There she had been, minding her own business in Beacon Hills and thinking about Scott. They had spent an extra few hours together after being attacked by the weird-lizard-thing at Isaac's house before Allison had called and told her that Gerard was asking about her location. Her cousin had fabricated some bullshit story about her spending the night at Lydia's, so Ellie used the opportunity to spend the night with Scott.

She and her boyfriend had dragged the freezer out of the basement (per Derek's request) and hen snuck back into his house to sleep. His mum was on the early shift at the hospital, so Mrs McCall wouldn't catch them together (luckily).

But, yes, she wasn't doing anything crazily interesting (or important), and, after a long few hours of driving aimlessly through the town, Ellie stopped to get some petrol. The _Mazda_ was hers for the night (thanks to a lot of begging, guilt-tripping and bribing with good grades), and the teenager was using the vehicle to achieve some sense of freedom.

The station was deserted, save for one black motorbike parked at one of the pumps. It was really creepy, honestly, so Ellie told herself that she would try to spend as little amount of time in the place as possible. As she filled the tank, the bell above the door to shop dinged, and out walked a man in bike leathers. Without paying much attention to the stranger, she looked back to the gas machine and waited for the amount to go up (the thing was so slow it wasn't even funny).

Second later, the bike rumbled away and she was left on her own. Every survival instinct the possessed yelled at her to leave, that a lot of bad things could happen if she didn't leave _right then_.

"Shit," she muttered, yanking the nozzle out of her car at the same time every light in the complex shut off. Hastily shoving some money into the slot, Ellie slipped back into her car and reached for the keys to drive away.

They weren't there.

 _What the hell?_

Ellie poked her head back out of the door to check the immediate vicinity of the vehicle (even though she knew there was no way the keys could've fallen onto the floor outside – it was impossible), but there was no sign of her keys.

Frowning, she climbed back out, peering over the pavement in a desperate search. If she didn't find the damn things, then her uncle would literally kill her. That Mazda was Allison's originally, after all.

A jingling nose sounded, and Ellie spun on her heel. Was someone shaking her keys? It came again, and she distinctly recognised the chime of her car key against the wooden wolf she'd received from Scott as an ironic Christmas gift.

Oh, God, what if it was the lizard-thing? She didn't even have her bow with her, or a werewolf for protection. She'd never felt so alone in her whole life as she did in that one moment.

Then someone dropped a bag over her head and threw her into what she assumed was the boot of their car.

Okay, so not the lizard – just a regular old kidnapper.

;

Ellie knew she was going to die. It was a sort of clarity that made everything feel distant somehow. In the morning they'd find her body… or they wouldn't, and everyone would notice that she was missing.

She couldn't believe that she would never see Scott again, or Allison, or Lydia, or Stiles.

Vaguely, Ellie realised that she was being placed onto a chair and the hood was yanked from her head. Sometime during the journey, her kidnapper had gagged her, so she was unable to make any more noise than high-pitched wailing.

Across from her was her uncle Chris in the exact same position, looking less panicked and making less of a racket with sobbing and whining. God, how did they get him, too? Ellie thought that he was with Allison and Victoria. Wait, had they been taken, too? No, her cousin couldn't die!

" **Have you ever wondered what happens when a hunter gets bitten, Ellie?** " came a loud, distorted voice (that sounded strangely like Derek Hale).

 _Wait, hunter? Was this some crazy hunter initiation? You have got to be freaking kidding me._

" **Ever wonder what happens if you get bitten?** "

Why would they be talking to her about this? She knew all about the hunter-law from the tragic tale of her parents' suicide. Whoever came up with this idea was going to have to sleep with one eye open.

" **What do you think your uncle would do?** "

She tried to say 'kill me' but all that came out was a warbled groan.

" **What do you think he'd have to do?** "

Chris' face pulled with concentration, and the wooden chair he sat in creaked dangerously. A protruding vein in his forehead pulsed in exertion, and Ellie finally noticed that they weren't in some decrepit warehouse – they were in the Hale house.

This entire situation was just one large kick in the face, memories assaulting her mind in a way that had her panting from the determination to keep them at bay.

Her uncle yelled out, and suddenly the chair collapsed under his weight and he was able to pull himself completely free. With one hand ripping the gag from his mouth, he reached out and took the phone that was offered to him by…

… by the man she'd seen at the gas station.

" **When all it would take to change everything is one bite.** " She now realised that the threatening voice had been emanating from the device now in her uncle's possession.

Oh, shit was going to go down.

" **One bite.** "

Chris stood, breathing laboured. "And everything changes." He pulled the cloth out of her mouth, letting her release a string of curses that would make a sailor blush.

"Are you kidding me? Is this how you've decided to scare me into agreeing with you now?" Ellie yelled, "I can't believe you would stoop this low – all of the shit about getting bitten when you know what happened to my mum and dad. You're despicable. Did Victoria talk you into this, or was it your form of punishing me for my 'insubordination'?"

"No," the older man said calmly. "This is how we're going to train you. Do you know why we use arrows?"

"I don't know, Katniss Everdeen, why do we?" Ellie said spitefully.

"Ellie…"

She rolled her eyes. "They can't heal until it's taken out."

He held up an arrow, scowling. "Does this look familiar?"

"Nope," she lied. Allison had told her al about the lengths she went to in order to save Isaac – including shooting a hunter.

"This was embedded in one of my hunters, Ellie," Chris narrowed his eyes.

"He was going to kill a teenage boy; he deserved it." Ellie snapped, hating how easily her uncle could talk about murdering one of her classmates.

"And if we find Isaac on another full moon, we will kill him." He shouted, "That's the hard choice we make."

"Hardly seems hard for you anymore," Ellie sniffed. "Maybe we're misjudging who the real monster here is."

"It wasn't my choice," he continued as if she hadn't spoken.

"Gerard?" That old man was the bane of her existence.

Her uncle shook his head. "No. You see, our family has a surprisingly progressive tradition. Knowing wars and violence are typically started by men, we place the final decisions, the hard ones, with the women. Our sons are trained to be soldiers; our daughters, to be leaders." He placed the arrow in her hand and began to walk out. "Training starts now. Time her, maybe she'll be out before Allison is."

The man from the gas station sent her an infuriating smirk before following the older hunter out of the house. Ellie closed her eyes for a moment, wondering if Allison was going through this exact torture in another room, and got to work slicing the rope around her wrists.

After what felt like hours, Ellie knew that this was taking much too long. At the rate she was going, she wouldn't be out in time to meet Scott later that night in the preserve.

Thinking back to an old the Walking Dead episode and channelling her inner Glenn, Ellie stood up in the chair (balance wavering slightly and making her stumble). She took a deep breath and ran back with all of her force into the wall, hoping that it wouldn't crumble under her weight.

The chair creaked, but it didn't break, and it continued to withstand her hits for another quarter of an hour. Just as her strength waned, the back of the chair broke, and she was able to disentangle herself from the object ad leave the Hale house.

Rubbing her wrists, she walked briskly to where the motorbike-man was waiting.

"Congrats," he said, sounding insultingly surprised.

Ellie made a face. "For what? It took me an hour and a half."

"Took me three when I did it," he said. Ellie didn't smile at him, or acknowledge his admission, she just wrinkled her nose in anger at the entire situation and climbed into her car.

At least she could depend on Scott making her feel better.

;

Two days later saw Ellie and her friends back at school. Once a month, coach took his economics class into the locker rooms to change for gym. They usually didn't get much of a warning, so they were heavily advised to leave their kits in their lockers so they wouldn't get majorly chewed out by Finstock.

As they entered the classroom that day, Finstock had told them excitedly that they would be climbing the recently installed rock wall in gym that day. A collective groan shook through the students, but they'd changed willingly and marched into the sports hall.

Ellie stood with Lydia and Allison at first, sharing short, longing looks with Scott over their shoulders. Stiles kept winking exaggeratedly at her (which showed she knew exactly what she and Scott had been doing most of the weekend), and Lydia was sending her unimpressed looks.

"Are you sure you and Scott have broken up?" the strawberry blonde asked blandly.

Ellie cast a quick look at Allison, who was pretending to not be interested. "Yep. We are no longer an item."

"Really?"

"Really."

Ellie hated lying to Lydia – especially seeing as her friend seemed to sense her dishonesty.

"Argent and McCall!" Coach yelled as the first pair jumped down from the wall. "You're up next!"

"Which Argent?" Allison asked loudly.

He shouted back, "The short one."

Ellie rolled her eyes, letting Matt (who knew he was in her class?) strap her in. "Good luck," the blue-eyed boy said nicely. She thanked him and weaved her way upwards. This was not her first time on a rock wall… though it seemed to be Scott's, for he was at least two rows of below her.

"Have you learned anything more about the lizard from Stiles?" she asked when they were high enough to not be heard.

Scott shook his head, eyes latched onto his feet. "No, but I know that it's different from me."

"It could've been a werewolf," Ellie disagreed. "It was really dark in the house when it attacked us."

"It had a tail," Scott said. "I don't have a tail."

"Maybe you just haven't grown it yet," she teased, grinning widely at him when he turned to glare at her.

Scott scoffed, "I'm not growing a tail," but he was smiling fondly at the amusement in her voice and she knew he wasn't mad at her. "Ever." Ellie laughed lightly and stopped, noticing how much higher she was than Scott. He gasped. "Are you slowing down for me?!"

"I'm waiting for you!" she denied, trying not to make him feel bad. His pride would suffer if he knew that she would be finished by now if she wasn't talking to him.

"Waiting for me to catch up?"

She shrugged, "You looked like you were struggling."

His eyes dropped from hers, and he smirked. "Maybe I was admiring the view."

"Well, have fun admiring from afar." Ellie went back into action, her usual speed lifting her so quickly Scott blinked and she was already a metre above him. Giggling, she turned back to her boyfriend's side to see how much further up she was, but he was already waiting right next to her.

Ellie gasped, knowing he'd used his werewolf abilities to beat her. Smiling sweetly, she grabbed his ankle and yanked him off of the wall. His harness barely caught him before he hit the floor, and the entire class started laughing – including the coach.

She saw him say something to Scott, before finishing the climb and abseiling down.

"Alright, next two!" Coach shouted. "Stilinski, Erica – to the wall!"

Stiles grinned in a simultaneously excited and creepy way that only he could create. Ten minutes later, they were both climbing slowly up the wall, Stiles showcasing a never-before-seen athletic prowess and Erica shaking in fright. The pale boy finished quickly, but the girl had hardly moved.

Erica whimpered, "Help," and began to hyperventilate.

"Erica!" Finstock shouted warily up to her, "Dizzy? Is it vertigo?"

"Vertigo's a dysfunction of the vestibular system of the inner ear," Lydia said blankly. "She's just freaking out."

People began laughing, and Ellie turned to glare at a snickering girl behind her.

"Maybe it's not safe," Allison suggested. "You know she's epileptic."

"Why doesn't anybody tell me this stuff?!" Coach panicked, "Erica, you're fine. Just kick off from the wall. There's a matt to catch you."

Erica did as the coach said, before stumbling out of the gym with obnoxious laughter following her.

Ellie scowled dangerously. "Can everyone just shut the hell up?" she shouted. "Don't you think she feels bad enough?"

Ellie walked with Allison and Lydia back to the girls' locker rooms, noticing that Erica wasn't present, and changed back into her clothes. Sighing, she walked back out in time to come face to face with a stricken Scott, who was sprinting back into the gym.

Sharing a look with her cousin, she ran to follow him. They reached the gym in time to see Scott catch a falling Erica, who seemed to be having a fit.

"Put her on her side," Allison ordered.

"How did you know?" Ellie asked quietly.

Scott shrugged. "I just felt it."

;

Erica was taken to the hospital in an ambulance fifteen minutes later, and the teens were left to continue with their school day. A bad feeling settled in Ellie's gut, and something told her that the blonde epileptic girl would be a part of something big in the future – something bad.


	6. 05 In Which He Falls Hard

When Ellie Argent walked into the lunch hall that same day, she didn't immediately make a bee-line for Scott's table. If it had been any other time she would've, but now her grandfather was the principal and he had spies everywhere.

So, with a resigned breath, she opted to wait, alone, at a table near his in hopes Lydia or Allison would appear soon. Her cousin had told her at the end of their last lesson together that she would be late to lunch (something about a detention with Harris), but Lydia had said nothing.

The chair opposite hers scraped back, a weight settled onto it, and a throat cleared. She barely glanced at the person, knowing it couldn't be her strawberry blonde friend.

"Ellie," they said, and she knew it was Jackson.

Since the night of the winter formal, she hadn't said more than two words to him. He was out of reach now; a person who listened to her problems way-back-when and let her live in the turmoil she had been during her brief time of insanity before the werewolf bomb was dropped.

He sighed impatiently. "Look, I don't get why you're angry with me, or whatever, but I have some stuff going on and – "

" – And you, what, you need support? I don't think you understand – I don't care." Ellie said bluntly. Jackson wasn't a friend to her now. He was just someone who used her to get to Scott and broke someone's heart in the process.

"You have to care. We're friends," Jackson hissed, head jerking toward the girl in a sharp, almost rolling intensity as his eyes seemed to glow. What the hell was wrong with him? He looked… monstrous.

"No." Ellie denied, leaning away from him in unease. "We haven't been friends in weeks. In fact, I'm starting to doubt if we ever were."

He scoffed loudly, the sound gaining the attention of several people around him. "Of course we were – are."

"Jackson, don't lie to me." She shook her head, standing up and thinking maybe sitting with her boyfriend wasn't a bad idea. "You used me to get to Scott, and now you're only talking to me because it didn't work. You want to be a werewolf? Go ahead. Howl at the moon, put on your Tyler Lockwood, sniff some butts – I don't give a damn. You're not my responsibility. You're not my _pack_ , and you need to leave me the hell alone."

The teenage boy's mouth opened, prepared to yell like nobody's business, she assumed, but he suddenly froze. Males all over the hall were suddenly gaping, drooling, and whacking their friend's shoulders to direct all attention to the doors. The scene was shockingly similar to the moment in Grease when the T Bird's see Sandy at the carnival – only less cute, more disgusting and stinking more like hormones than romantic love.

At the doors, gliding through like a freaking supermodel, was Erica Reyes. It seemed she'd met Trini and Susanna for a real extreme makeover over the two periods she was supposed to be at the hospital.

Ellie had to admit it: the girl was hot.

Not the same hot as pretty celebrities like Nina Dobrev or Kristen Bell, though. It was the sleazy, I-don't-really-care-about-anything-but-boys look that was necessarily bad, but wasn't greatly appreciated either. Ellie had no qualms with the dress (she herself sported the less-than-classy look on multiple occasions and she definitely enjoyed a tussle in the sheets with Scott), but something about the way she held herself made the shorter girl angry.

Or maybe that was just because Scott himself was staring at the blonde with a renewed interest that rivalled Gerard in intensity and Stiles in hormones. Well, no. Actually, the two teenage boys sat together seemed to be more suspicious than lustful (and Ellie had never been more grateful for anything ever, seriously. She was the jealous type).

As the entire student body watched, Erica bent down over some poor freshman and took a big bite out of the apple on his tray (an attempt to be seductive, maybe?) before smirking widely and wiping juice from her lips.

Hands slapped onto the table in front of Ellie (she distantly realised that she had actually sat back down after the surprise arrival and Jackson had disappeared), and Lydia's voice demanded: " _What_ the _holy_ _hell_ is _that_?"

"It's Erica," she answered dumbly, frowning.

Lydia sniffed, "I hate her."

Ellie shook her head, laughing lightly and about to tell Lydia that the transformation may not be that bad…

… and then Scott jumped from his seat, eager to follow the girl and Ellie felt jealousy curl inside her stomach.

Scowling, she agreed, "Yeah, me freaking too."

;

The rest of the school day was spent studiously avoiding Scott and talking to Lydia. Apparently, Ellie hadn't been the only one to have a worrying encounter with Jackson – Lydia had been manhandled and told 'everything was her fault'.

"Maybe he was high?" Lydia suggested later that night as they sat in Allison's bedroom. The taller brunette was laid casually on the bed, sprawled and laughing. It was often they got moments like this anymore. It was nice to have someone to act so normal, so human with. As much as she hated to admit it, she could never be fully at ease with Scott.

"Maybe he's cracking under the pressure of his popularity?" Ellie added, amused, from her position curled on the floor. "Or he's finally realised that no one cares if he's the captain of the lacrosse team and he only has one friend?"

"Bit harsh, Ellie," Allison reprimanded, lifting her head to set her cousin with an unamused stare. "He has more… you know, if imaginary ones count."

Lydia giggled, though, from the look on her face, she knew that they were only trashing him for her benefit; the bitter ex-girlfriend routine.

Ellie stood reluctantly, slipping on her coat from where it sat next to her, "I guess Lydia and I had better go…"

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" the strawberry blonde asked.

Allison shrugged. "I need to catch up on sleep; get an early night. Plus, I think my dad wants to spend some quality time with me and I need to ask him a few things."

"… Okay." Ellie sighed, "I'm sorry we're leaving you."

"It's fine, Ellie." The taller girl laughed brightly, "I can study some other time."

A knock sounded at the door, unnecessary as it had been left open, and stood in the mouth of it was Chris Argent.

"Going out?" he asked Ellie pleasantly (or as pleasantly as you can when you're a vicious hunter with a thirst for killing innocent teenage boys).

"Studying at Lydia's," she answered shortly.

The man's jaw tightened. "Allison," he called to his daughter. "Can I talk to you outside, please?"

She sighed reluctantly. "Fine," she looked to Ellie and Lydia. "Have fun. But not too much fun."

;

Fast forward twenty minutes and the two girls were pulling up to the car park of a building Ellie had never seen before with Lydia holding her phone haphazardly for directions.

"Where are we?" Ellie wondered, frowning. "I thought we were going to your house?"

"We were," the strawberry blonde told her easily. "But then I got this text from the Sty kid and I thought we could do something more fun."

"'Sty kid'? What are you – wait. Sty? Stiles?" Ellie glared menacingly. "You're taking me on a double date with Scott and Stiles even though you know I've been avoiding him."

"Come on, so he was checking out some piece of boob," Lydia shrugged. "You're his girlfriend – he only wants you."

"But he ran after her," Ellie said stubbornly, deflating in her seat. "Looking at the merch is fine, but I don't want to see him chasing her like a puppy for attention."

"Come on. You can be mad on the date, and have make-up sex after – "

"Lydia!"

" – It'll be fun. Don't you want me to spend time with the boy that's in love with me?"

Ellie groaned, slapping the dashboard as a familiar blue jeep parked next to them. "Fine, but I'm only doing this for Stiles."

They climbed out of the car and joined the boys. Stiles was twitching with excitement, and Scott was giving her the moony look he usually reserved for when they were on dates.

Stiles grinned, inserting a key into the front door of the strange building, and Ellie inquired, "So where are we?"

"The ice rink," Scott answered bashfully. "I remembered that you liked to skate and…"

"I got the keys!" Stiles announced proudly, switching on the lights and grinning at Lydia. "You know, just so you, uh, you know. Or, you know, in case you wanted to know."

The group collected some skates from behind the counter and retreated to the benches to lace them up. Lydia and Stiles sat slightly away from Ellie and Scott, and the couple were left to awkward silence that Ellie refused to break.

"So, um, what's wrong?" Scott asked.

Ellie blinked. "What?"

"You've been avoiding me." He shrugged, looking sad, "You're, you're really good at it."

"There's nothing wrong with me," Ellie smiled, shaking her head. "I've just been… upset… about how you acted with Erica earlier. Like you were a horny puppy or something."

"Wait, you think I followed Erica because – No! I didn't – I wouldn't – why…. I promise, I love you way too much to do anything like, like that with another girl."

"Then why – "

"Because of how much she changed!" Scott grabbed her hands, the look of adoration not unlike when he first saw her that day in English fell onto his face. "When has anyone ever had a makeover that fast that was that effective – or that much of a confidence boost?!" He dropped his voice to a conspiring whisper, "Derek turned her into a werewolf."

"What?!"

"Ssh!" he said urgently. "Come on, let's just have one night, okay? Just a normal date with no weird lizards or alphas or grandfathers who hate me…"

"Fine, yeah, okay," she laughed. "And I love you, too."

Scott pressed a small kiss to Ellie's lips, then stood. "Now, let's get on the ice."

"Maybe I should give you a few pointers," she suggested before they touched foot on the ice.

"Ellie…" he said seriously. "I know none of this is news to you, or anything, but remember the werewolf thing? Speed, strength, reflexes…"

"So skating should be no problem?" she mused, eyebrows arching. Yeah, his coordination had too much to be desired for this type of activity, no matter how good he may be on a climbing wall.

Scott gave a smug grin, stepping onto the ice and moving forward confidently. "See? No probl – "

He fell dramatically, face whacking the floor, and Ellie cupped a hand around her mouth to hide her laughter.

Lydia swirled off on her own, showing off figure skating skills that were incomparable to anyone but professional Olympians.

Ellie would've shown off to Scott, but she was much too preoccupied holding her boyfriend's hands and guiding him around the rink. He wasn't a natural, but he was better than Allison was when she stepped onto the ice.

After a few (or more than a few) theatrical falls, Scott managed to bump his head into the wall hard enough to earn a resound smack. "I think you hit your head that time..."

"What's that, coach?" he replied dizzily.

Ellie winced. "You definitely hit your head."

"I'm fine," he tried to stand, but instead managed to topple over again, landing on Ellie and sending her sprawling underneath him.

She let loose a winded laugh. "Alright, _handsy_." She smirked, "Save it for later."

"Sorry," he groaned. "I'm incredibly bad at this."

"It's okay, Scott," she helped him stand with her. "But maybe we should get away from this lawsuit-waiting-to-happen."

They walked to the normal flooring and switched back their shoes, giggling the entire way. He placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek, and she flicked his nose. "So was that 'save it for later' thing a joke or a promise?"

"Hmm," Ellie shrugged. "That depends on your behaviour, I suppose."

"My behave – "

Scott's teasing voice was interrupted by a loud, piercing scream.

A scream that was coming from Lydia.


End file.
